On Friday evening we watched our grandson playing for Hethersett and Tas Valley Under-10s in a cup semi-final against Horsford. The Horsford team were bigger, more powerful and our boys (and girl) suffered from that and were well beaten. Elliot is playing up a year and so can play for the Under-10s next season as well. He scored 10 not out and looked good with the bat.
It was our first visit to the ground at Flordon this season which sounds ridiculous because in the past we have spent much of our weekends there. But this year we seem to have had so much on that it's been a struggle getting there.
The first thing we noticed was how parched the ground was (not surprisingly). Where grass used to be in the car park, it's now a dust bowl and that saw me singing a bit of Woody Guthrie.
Guthrie recorded an album entitled Dust Bowl Ballads. This was way back in 1940. The album is thought to be one of the first concept albums. It deals with the American dust bowl drought and the effects it had on the country and the American people. It had a huge influence on many later artists including Bruce Springsteen who released an album many years ago entitled The Ghost of Tom Joad.
During the dustbowl era, Southern and Great Plains states became unliveable because of drought and the depression. Desperate people and farmers whose crops had ben destroyed began to move west ("Go West young man") to California. Guthrie went along with many of them learning songs and writing the blues. He became known as the Dust Bowl Troubadour.
One of my favourite books - The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck - deals with a similar scenario with its hero Tom Joad (yes him again).
Many many years ago when the boys were relatively young we went on a holiday to California, some of which I refer to as "taking in the Steinbeck trail". That meant visiting Cannery Row in Monterey and then going to Salinas where Steinbeck lived.
It was a good holiday driving up the Pacific Highway from California and into Oregon and then Washington State and into Canada.
Hundreds of miles of ocean and then hundreds of miles of Redwood Forest (which got slightly boring).
We hopped from motel to motel, always finding somewhere to stay for the night apart from in Carmel where Clint Eastwood was once mayor. Every room was taken.
I wanted to find a place called Bolinas. One of my favourite singer songwriters John Stewart wrote a song called Bolinas which was about a community of artists and Bohemians who wanted to keep themselves to themselves and didn't want visitors to find them so they ensured there were no signposts indicating where Bolinas is/was. As soon as the authorities put a sign up, they ripped it down:
Time in Bolinas in so very small
The clock on the courthouse ain't workin' at all
And the Mayor of Bolinas is digging for clams
But the folks in Bolinas
They don't give a damn
Two little figures far down the road
Chasing the train as far as they go
But the train disappears in its own westward dot
And the two little figures now stand on the spot
Where all that mighty iron had rolled
And the track now is cold
When the world was spinning a song
And it whistled the wind
Carry it on
When the world was spinning a song
And it whistled the wind
Carry it on
Time in Bolinas is so very small
The clock on the courthouse ain't workin' at all
And the Mayor of Bolinas is digging for clams
But folks in Bolinas
They don't give a damn
Another place we loved was Mendocino which was a seaside place that reminded us of Southwold in Suffolk. Again there was a song for our visit. Talk to Me of mendocino was recorded variously by Kate and Anna McGarrigle and Linda Ronstadt.
I bid farewell to the state of old New York
My home away from home
In the state of New York I came of age
When first I started roaming
And the trees grow high in New York State
And they shine like gold in the autumn
Never had the blues from whence I came
But in New York State I got 'em
Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait
Must I follow
Won't you say come with me
And it's on to South Bend, Indiana
Flat out on the western plain
Rise up over the Rockies
And down on into California
Out to where but the rocks again
And let the sun set on the ocean
I will watch it from the shore
Let the sun rise over the redwoods
I'll rise with it till I rise no more
Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait
Must I follow
Won't you say come with me
Mendocino is where the murder mystery Series Murder She Wrote was filmed. The town was supposed to be In Maine but for some reason they filmed the outside shots in Mendocino in California. Not a lot of people know that.
But back to cricket - after all that's where this blog started. Yesterday we went to see a very exciting match between Hethersett and Tas Valley and old adversaries Ashmanhaugh and Barton Wanderers. There is little love lost between the two clubs which have been close rivals for a number of years.
I well remember a match a few years ago where Hethersett won off the last ball, thus gaining promotion and preventing Ashmanhaugh from going up. I remember that game because our son Matt scored the winning run off the last ball.
Over the following couple of seasons Hethersett have stayed static in Division One of the Norfolk Alliance where they have subsequently been joined by Ashmanhaugh. Before the game Ashmanhaugh were top of the league and Hethersett were in second place. So it was a crucial game in the heat.
Not to bore non cricket fans (and I know some of my readers fall into that category), Hethersett won by 26 runs and are now just six points behind Ashmanhaugh with two games to go. More importantly they are well clear in second place and now look nailed on for promotion to the Premier Division. It's been some journey for our club. Over the years I have filled numerous roles which have included Press Officer, Club Development Officer, Chairman for two years and now Honorary Vice-President. I have seen the club rise through the ranks of the Norfolk League and through the Norfolk Alliance, winning promotion after promotion and now on the verge of reaching the pinnacle of the Norfolk Alliance.
This was another of those blogs that started with very little idea of what I was going to write about and then the words just flowed and took over.
Finally today the answer to my pictorial question of a few days ago. Nobody got the answer, although some were on the right track. Yes it was a stage and yes it does come from a church.
More importantly it was the stage used by John Lennon and his band of the time the Quarrymen at the annual fete held at St Peter's Church, Woolton in Liverpool in the summer of 1957. This was the day Lennon met Paul McCartney and fate took a hand in changing pop/rock music forever.
The stage is now in a store room of the magnificent Liverpool Museum. A number of years ago this was opened to visitors for just one day and we were lucky enough to be there on that particular day. There was also a short film. I was the last person to leave the room. Nobody else seemed to be as fascinated by this chunk of wood - but I guess that's just me.